Evil Never Sleeps
by Calvin Wong
Summary: A closer look at the inner workings of Zurg's Evil Empire. Thanks go to Ty Parsec for the inspiration.
1. Standards

The expression on his face was pure terror; a mask of frozen fear as he watched the scene before him unfold. The dark hollowness of the single most important thing in his life consumed his attention, as the certain dark hollow thing two inches from his face would soon ensure that if what he said next was not of the utmost importance, there wouldn't be very much of his life left.

'Er...' He managed. It wasn't a winning answer, but it was the best he could come up up.

'Speak up, you ingratiating piece of insectular filth!' Zurg crowed, his metal visage contorted with fury. The Death Cannon 3000 (Registered trademark, patent pending) held upon his arm underlined his growing impatience with the grub standing in front of him with his hands over his head.

'Your evilness...' he stammered. 'I-I-I beg forgiveness, but I must inform you...'

The coldness of the steel cannon touched his forehead and he burst into a new round of shivers. 'That... d-d-d-dinner is s-s-ss-erved.'

'Ah.' Zurg said, lowering the weapon and looking at his minion with an expression of undisguised boredom. 'Well, you could have picked a better time, you know.'

There was a mumbled reply which sounded a lot like 'short straw'

Which really explains everything, Zurg felt. Sighing, he waved the Death Cannon 3000. 'You may go.'

The grub scurried to his feet and took off. Zurg watched him go, then put the weapon down, removing the towel from his head at the same time. 'Honestly. How can I expect to be taken seriously if people keep walking in on me in the shower...' He shook his head, reaching for his bathrobe as he proceeded to his Armory of Evil.

The circular room had several doors, over which there were conveniently placed labels to ensure that any spies/agents/rangers/Buzz Lightyears knew exactly what was what. 'Weapons' read one, 'Express Elevator (to Main Control Room)' said another, but the one he was headed for was 'Wardrobe'

'Ah!' Zurg said, entering the huge antechamber. 'What a beautiful sight.'

Armor after armor after suit of purple armor adorned every hanging, every shelf, every alcove. And all of them fit too.

Selecting something with a slightly longer cloak than normal, Zurg hummed the Moonlight Sonata as he proceeded to pick out a helmet with even more angles than usual. Here, however, Evil Emperor Zurg, Destroyer of Worlds, Antichrist of the 34th Century, Time Magazine's Person of the Year (3354, December issue), was faced with a serious and brain racking dilemma.

'Should I go with the mauve or the plum?' He asked himself, metal claws at his chin. 'I want to go for something resonantly...' Here he paused out of sheer habit, and lowered his voice several octaves. '_Evil_, but at the same time I don't want to unnecessarily intimidate...' He trailed off as he agonized. 'Ah, who cares? I'm an evil emperor! If people don't like how I dress they can just take it up with my Complaints Department! And I will be going with plum!' He cried, taking the victorious outfit in his hand. 'Mwa ha! Mwahaha! MWAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!!'

The sound echoed around the high ceiling, bouncing several times around the entire room as Zurg moved triumphantly from the antechamber.

A brief pause.

'You know, I think the mauve would be more appropriate.' Zurg said, sidling back into the room. 'I mean, it's not everyday I have guests, and plum is _ such_ the sissy color.' He threw the offending garment back on it's shelf. 'I simply must get myself a fashion consultant.' He paused for a moment, lost in a moment of pure introspective evil. 'And a Complaints Department. Yes. I'll put it on my organizer right away.'

***

'Sorry I kept you waiting.' Zurg said as he hovered into the immense (and very well decorated) dining room, in what he thought was an aloof and paltry tone. 'But you know how it is. Galaxy to run. Evil organization to organize.'

'Yes, see it all the time.' His guest said.

Zurg looked at his guest.

Really looked.

'I must say your entree is rather good.' He said, in impeccable Earth English. 'I like the idea of bread with meat. Very original. Are all your ventures conducted with such innovation?'

Pause.

'Ah ha.' Zurg managed, trying his very best not to stare. 'Well, yes, really. I rather like some of my more... creative works of evil.' He sat down at his place, the one with the nine foot throne complete with spiky bits near the top. 'Do help yourself. I can have peanuts brought in if you like.'

'Afraid that won't do.' His guest said, waving a hand in the air. 'Can't abide nuts. They give me piles. Do you know how horrid it was on the flight here? Those attendants, all they do is ask if you want more nuts. Nuts nuts nuts. Gentleman can't take a nap in peace without some top-heavy female from Jentuva IV asking if I want a screw top... Are you alright?'

'Yesyesyes...' said Zurg, recovering from his coughing fit. 'I just... didn't realize nuts came in jars, that's all. Jentura IV, you say?'

'That's right, I did. Horrid planet. Filled with nothing but vice, sin, and corruption as far as the eye can see.'

Zurg found that if he was going to sit down to dinner with someone who had a major problem with vice, sin, and corruption he may want to have the precautions ready. He clapped his hands thrice, signalling not only for the start of dinner but also for one of his grubs to slip him a poison pill which he might want to put into any convenient drinks the man may partake of.

'Not that it's not a wonderful planet to do business on, let me tell you.' The man said, folding a napkin and putting it over his lap. 'Might I inquire as to the first course?'

'Stuffed Marvarian partridge with boiled Lipsonian eyes, Jo-Ad wheat bread and a side of Doritos.' Zurg said absently as the plate was laid in front of him. 'Let's get down to business shall we?'

'I concur.' The man said, slicing his knife over his fork, a habit Zurg despised. He winced from the sound and made a mental note to have the man poisoned no matter what his views on Miami. 'Now, on the matter of weapons.'

'I have a catalog.' Zurg said helpfully. The man paused, fork inches from his partridge.

'Emperor Zurg,' he said, placing his utensils down. 'If I wanted to see a catalogue, I would have stayed on Intonia and not traveled half the galaxy to see you in person. I have very specific demands and I was told you were the one who could meet them. So here I am. Proffer me a catalogue again if you like, but I must say that your sense of propriety offends, quite frankly.'

Definitely poison. And dessert. Extra dessert. Just for spelling catalog with an 'ue'.

'My apologies.' Zurg said, cutting apart his bird just a little more viciously than was necessary. 'And what are those demands? Specifically?'

'I was thinking along the lines of biological warfare.' The man said. 'A retrovirus, so to speak. Engineered to target only one type of organism and completely eradicate its population in a radius the size of an average biosphere.' He put a forkful of meat into his mouth. 'I say, this partridge is splendid.'

'Thank you.' Zurg said absently, fingers steepled. 'You'll be wanting a delivery system as well, I suppose?'

'I was hoping you could suggest one.' He speared a Dorito with his fork. 'Do you have any sauce?'

'I'll have sour cream brought immediately.' Zurg said, his mind already churning with countless evil ideas to eradicate the entire population of a planet with a single weapon. 'Biotoxin, so you say?' he chuckled as he conjured images of millions screaming in agonizing death.

'A strong one.'

'Hope that doesn't ruin your appetite.' Zurg said, with just a trace of foreboding in his voice as the grub who brought the dip passed him a small white pill. 'How's course two looking?' He shouted at one of the serving grubs.

'Very well, your h-h-highness.' The grub said, skittering off.

'Difficult to find good help?' The man asked, popping another mouthful.

'Not at all.' Zurg replied. 'Now, I was thinking about something... wide. Big. Evil.' His voice lathered over the last word. 'I want missiles. Big... big missiles. Missiles the size of a house. And I don't mean some little shepardy twobyfour lean to either, I mean California mansion. Think Hugh Hefner.' He said, waving his arms in excitement.

'Aren't missiles rather conspicuous?' The man asked. 'Wouldn't you rather go for something more... subtle?'

He didn't like Jentura, he didn't like big flashy displays of power, and he wasn't eating any of his poisoned sour cream. Zurg was becoming increasingly irritated with this man.

'Fine, you're the customer.' Zurg said, agitated at having his dream of launching a bazillion missiles of laden death at some unsuspecting planet ruined. 'What do you suggest?'

'I propose...' the man said, wiping his mouth as the second course was brought before them. 'Ah, lamb I see.'

'Not quite.' Zurg said, watching the steam rise from his dish. 'You were saying?'

'Yes, I was. Now, I was hoping I could prevail upon you to use a biological delivery agent.'

Ah, subterfuge! This was more his side of steak. Zurg drew himself up. 'Yes, yes... It's coming to me now... An agent. An agent of,' his voice lowered 'Evil, carrying the virus enters a heavily populated area, the capital maybe, and detonates a bomb which releases thousands and thousands of particles of deadly gas into the air, killing millions in an instant!' He suppressed the urge to laugh. 'Oh...' He managed a chuckle. 'I like it.'

The man looked at him with the expression of a principal who's had the same boy sent nineteen times to his office for the same offence and was getting rather sick of the whole affair. 'I meant food.'

'Food!' Zurg exclaimed, unable to control himself. 'I'm Evil Emperor Zurg! Last month I built an entire fleet of ships with the sole purpose of carrying out multiple tax audits throughout the galaxy! My empire spans twelve worlds, nineteen moons and two hundred and fifty four asteroids! My devices of doom, death, and destruction have conquered a dozen cilizations, nations, and assorted tribes! And you want me to poison people's _food_!' Zurg was purple with rage. 'How dare you suggest that I, Evil Emperor Zurg, would stoop... to... such...' His tirade slowed in the face of the man holding up his sour cream bowl, a look of mild triumph on his face.

Zurg sank back into his chair.

'I'm prepared to pay you two hundred thousand Standard Units to prepare a virus.' The man said, standing. 'We'll take care of our own methods.'

'Fine.' Zurg said, defeated. 'What's the target species?' He said, his hand over his visor. Upshown by this little man! He needed an execution... just a small one to calm his nerves. And maybe some tea. Jasmine, yes. With cream.

'_Anopheles barberi_.' The man said. 'How soon can you have it ready?'

'Anopheles barberi...' Zurg muttered, his hand coming down. He repeated the words a few times before standing straight up. '_WHAT?_'

'Pardon?' The man said, just as he was about to turn to leave.

'You...' Zurg said, pushing aside his plate and throwing his napkin on the table. 'You... insolent little...' He began moving toward the man, arms clenched by his side. 'You came here, to my palace, to my inner sanctum, eat my food, sit on my cushions, and ask me to develop _bugspray!_' He spat, his face now a foot from the man's. 'The common mosquito! That's what you want me to kill? That's what you're paying me for? I'm an Evil Emperor! I won't stand for this!' He turned. 'GUARDS!' Turn again. 'Let's see you get out... of...'

The man pulled back the hammer.

Zurg gulped.

'One hundred and seventy thousand Standard Units.' He said, eyes narrowing behind his horn rimmed spectacles. 'Just because you've managed to irritate me. How soon can you have it ready?'

'One week is the standard production time.' Zurg said weakly.

'Very well. I shall return in a week.' The man put his gun away. Zurg relaxed visibly. 'Thank you for dinner, Emperor Zurg.' He adjusted his tie and set his bowler hat at an angle, picking up his black umbrella as he went. 'Good bye.'

Zurg watched him leave, then slumped into a chair. The grubs, who had been watching the whole scene, came out from their hiding places and crowded around their lord and master. 'How may we serve, Evil Emperor?' one of them asked, their heads bowed.

Zurg was silent for a while as he watched a fly on his ceiling. At last, he said 'Bring me my brain bots, and a library reference for _Anopheles barberi_. A Yellow Pages, oh, and a new bowl of dip.' He said, sitting up just as the last of the grubs had scurried away. He sighed heavily as the last two items were brought forth, along with a new bag of Doritos. Slicing open the bag with a claw, he dipped it as he flipped the directory open to F. His finger ran down the page, then picked up the telephone which a grub was holding on its head. It rang twice.

'Universal Fashion, how may I help you?'

'Yes, I was wondering about hiring a consultant.' Zurg said, pausing as the other side asked him a question. 'Male.' He answered. 'Yes, it's for me. Uh huh. Tell him he has to be good with purple, I like purple. Uh huh. Yes. Well, the same to you, punk!' He hung up heavily, causing the grub holding the phone to grunt. 'Tell Guest Services to prepare a room. We have a new consultant coming into tomorrow.' He stood up, his cloak swishing dramatically behind him as he walked away. 'And someone bring me my bubble bath!' He said, continuing in a low voice. 'Lord knows I'm going to need it.'


	2. Brink

'MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!'

Zurg was enjoying himself; his hands were above his head and he was really going for the gusto, projecting from the diaphragm and all. He hadn't had a maniacal laugh this good since the time he'd nearly conquered the planet of Appel Joabs, and was therefore inches from gaining a stranglehold on the most artistic and esoteric computer designs in the galaxy.

Around him, explosions and laserfire rocked his ship as countless grubs hurried about their tasks. Another crackle of energy from his Stasis Cannon brought a renewed bought of laughter to the evil emperor's lungs.

'Oh _Yes_!' He cried, in between breaths. 'Yes! Star Command falls!' He cried, lifting his arms dramatically. 'Lightyear is powerless to stop me, and universal conquest is mine!'

His fist clenched in the air as he shook it triumphantly at his viewscreen, where two dozen Star Cruisers lay helpless, trapped in the writing energy field of his Stasis Cannon. Lightyear's ship was among them, and he took extra pleasure in watching Cruiser 42 try to cut a way out with it's weapons. 'That fool, Lightyear!' Zurg said, really indulging himself on this one. 'His weapons fire is only strengthening my stasis field!' Here he was interrupted by another bout of ego soothing laughter. 'Which reminds me, GRUB!' He shouted at one who was scurrying near his foot. 'Have my lawyer call the patent office. I'll be wanting royalties off this one.'

A transmission fizzled it's way onto the viewscreen. Buzz Lightyear, his visage twisted in frustration and (as Zurg liked to think) misguided determination, appeared in twenty foot glory.

'Ah, Lightyear!' Zurg turned back to the screen, the grub running in fear. 'So good of you to call.' The ship rocked; Star Command's flak guns were trying to take apart his Hornet army. 'The effort's futile, of course.' Zurg said, folding his arms. 'Seeing as how you'll all be _dead_ in a matter of moments! MWA HA! MWAHAHA! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!'

'Don't be too-' Lightyear was interrupted by an explosion somewhere on his ship. 'Sure about that, Zurg. The forces of good have triumphed before, and triumph today they shall!'

'We shall see, Light Year.' Zurg said, pressing a button on his throne. Lightyear disappeared and was immediately replaced by the ever so beautiful image of Star Command.

Burning!

'Mehemwahahahaha!' Zurg laughed again, this time a more subtle and decidedly evil chuckle. 'Prepare the boarding teams!' He shouted at his grubs. 'I want that Nebula taken alive!' As he said it, he remembered the seminar he'd taken recently and added 'If reasonably possible!'

More Hornets began to launch from the belly of his massive dreadnought as Star Command began to lose more and more defensive guns. Zurg singled out a lone turret that seemed far too efficient for his liking and evaporated it with a single strike of his laser cannons.

'Today...' Zurg stood, rubbing his hands in glee. 'Today, Star Command shall fall! Lightyear shall be no more! And I shall rule the galaxy, spreading my reign of terror with impunity! MWAHA-'

'Uh, sir?'

'_WHAT?_' He shouted at the grub, infuriated at having his gloating interrupted. 'Do I disturb you when you've got chores? Do I tell you how to run your miserable insignificant life?' He produced a very large and very matte hand cannon from behind his back and pointed it at the grub's head. 'You'd better have something very good for me, or you're going to be turned into carpeting!'

'It's your-' He gulped. 'You've got a call.' He squealed, Zurg's finger moving on the trigger. 'On the emergency line!'

'So?' Zurg said, still irritated. 'Take a message! Get them to call me back! I'm on the verge of galactic conquest! I can't take a phone call!'

'etsyernathe' The grub whimpered.

'What?' Zurg asked.

'It's your mother.' The grub said, putting its hands over its head. And Ronnie owed him money, too.

Zurg straightened. 'My mother?' He asked. 'Why didn't you tell me sooner, you insolent grub?' He hit it out of the way with his gun. 'Bring me my telephone!'

The instrument was brought forth. 'Turn that screen off!' He shouted, and the screen went blank. The ship rumbled from weapons fire. Sitting down, Zurg took a deep breath, then reached for the phone.

'_Zurgie?_' A voice asked from the phone. '_Zurgie poo, izzat you?_'

If you've ever heard an entire hall of people stifling a laugh you know exactly what it sounds like. Zurg gave his minions a quick glance that he hoped made them quake in their chairs then immediately grabbed the receiver. 'Hello, mother.' He said in his most amiable tone. A grub gave a snigger and was immediately shot.

'_What's that I hear?_' His mother asked.

'Oh, nothing.' He said putting the gun away. 'Just the TV. That's all.' He covered the phone with his hand. 'Turn that TV down, will you? My mother's on the phone!' He put the receiver back to his ear. 'Yes, mother?'

'_You're conquering the galaxy again, aren't you?_' She said in her most accusing tone. '_You're on one of your evil schemes even you promised me not too at the Christmas party in front of Aunt Nora and your sister, too!_'

'No no, mother, it's not like that...' Zurg tried.

'_You're going to get yourself killed, just like your poor father!_' Zurg could barely keep from sighing. '_Ten days they hung him from-_'

'That pole like some animal, yes, I know mother.' His eyes were covered now. 'Look, I'm rather busy right now. Couldn't I call y-'

'_You never listen to me!_' She said, the hypocriticality of that statement sailing past her head. '_You never have! It was always about you you you! I was in labor with you for twenty nine hours! Ingrate! I don't know why I put up with you..._' Her voice cracked as she held back tears.

'No, no mother, please don't cry.' He said, trying his very best to ignore the snickering coming from all around him.

'_Your sister comes to see me every week! Every week!_' She sniffed. '_But you're always busy! I was never busy enough for you, but this is the thanks I get I suppose..._'

'Mother.' He said, losing his patience. 'I have an evil organization to run. I can't drop everything and visit the most backwater planet in the galaxy just to come see you!'

Wrong answer. The burst of sobbing was so loud that Zurg had to hold the phone away from his ear. 'Mother, can I call you back, _please?_' The ship was rocking rather badly now and some of the grubs were trying to catch his attention. Their consoles were flashing.

'_You don't care about me at all, do you?_' She screamed. '_Frannie cares! She brings me cookies and tells me she loves me_...' She broke down again. Zurg felt like crying himself; Star Command beneath his heel, universal domination in his hand and he was having the same conversation he had every time he spoke to his parental unit. Why he didn't just blockade the whole planet he didn't know. Probably because she'd start berating him for being overbearing.

What a hoot.

'Mother, stop it.' Zurg said, trying some force for once. His seminar had mentioned being assertive as very important. 'You know that's not true.'

Every grub on the bridge could hear his mother sobbing into the mouthpiece, but none of them cared. The beeping on their consoles was very loud now and most of them were slightly more panicked than amused.

'I do..' He said, covering his eyes, then closing his mouth and whispering. 'love you, mommy.' There was a break in the lurching sounds. 'Now can I please call you back?'

'_Frannie doesn't call me back. Frannie stays and talks to me all night._' His mother said between tears.

'Well Frannie was always your favorite, wasn't she, mother?' Zurg said hotly. 'No matter what I did, it was Frannie this. Frannie that. Well, I'm sick of it! And no, I don't care if you cry your heart out, because you never gave me a chance!' He slammed the phone down. 'That felt good.' He sighed. 'Viewscreen! Status!'

The ship rocked again, this time so violently that he was thrown to the ground. As he stood up, he looked at the viewscreen.

At twenty four Star Cruisers pounding his hull in.

His gaze turned to the grubs at the Stasis Cannon console. To the fire extinguishers in their hands as they frantically tried to stop the blaze.

'Full retreat!' He said, getting back into his throne. 'I'll be back another day, Lightyear!' He said, the massive ship turning tail, his surviving Hornets returning to their hangars.

And as his ship jumped to light space, Star Cruisers continuing to fire at his retreating hull, 'CURSE YOU, AT&T!' could be heard echoing through his command chamber as Team Lightyear gave each other high fives.


	3. Handling

The dignitaries flittered over the canape tray; the tinkling of laughter and the clinking of glasses the only sounds beside the quiet determination of the band playing bravely onwards in the face of total ignorance.

As the gathering of ambassadors, regional governors and assorted bureaucrats did their best to mingle with the right people and avoid certain other groups simultaneously, Buzz's ever watchful eye roved over the entire scene. The ventilation. The windows. The various entrances. A score of rangers had been assigned to safeguard this meeting; one well-placed explosive or other ill-meaning device would decapitate the leadership of a half dozen worlds.

Mira was fending off Izaran nobility; the tan-skinned aliens were trying to convince her to give their prince her hand in marriage so that the twin worlds of Tangea and Izara would forever live in peace and eternal harmony. Her expression was that of annoyance contending with grim frustration. Buzz grimaced at the fact that neither of them could do anything about it. Whoever's idea it was to have a democratic conference (read, dinner party) on the Saturn station while the planet was at it's most remote orbital path should have been made to take guard here, instead of him.

Buzz was, quite simply, bored. He hadn't stood in one place for so long since the sector dispute talks, which had done nothing but give him disc pain. When told to guard something, his first impression of the task went something along the lines of posted sentries, cruisers patrolling the area on constant scanning routes, and occasionally checking the kitchen. But the bigwigs felt that such precautions were not necessary; it simply wouldn't do to have military ships flying around right outside the window while the visiting representatives had no such ships. It made his teeth grit; first they get Star Command to play bodyguards at some stupid function, then they dictated demands while frittering away the evening on seafood and cocktails.

And formations! Formations! He'd like to see the policing system on the planet they came from; have twenty people stand in one place and look pretty. They should be spread out! Diversified! Blending! Page 57, chapter 3 of the manual. Defending a fixed position. His arm twitched as he supressed a sigh.

XR was doing his best to look neutral as several representatives from Intonia marveled at the very idea of a robot ranger, fawning over him and tapping on his helmet. Booster was conspicuously absent; Nebula had had hell trying to keep him from the convention. Another political decision. Jo-Ad was not very popular with Izara and neither was Izara very popular with Earth and in fact the very idea of the Alliance in general, so the entire thing was more or less being planned around them. Next thing you know they'd want Izaran militia posted at these gatherings.

Buzz rolled his eyes gently, trying to keep himself from going insane. The function was going to last another couple of hours, and his ankle was giving him gyp. Mira was looking more and more uncomfortable as the Izaran prince started rambling on about the superiority of their genetic coupling, and quoting various paragraphs from the Book of Izaria on how supple Tangea was the perfect match for Izaran strength. The fact that this was going on rather loudly, in front of dozens of foreign nobles and government representatives was irritating him to no end. If the Izarans crashed the party, guess who was going to get blamed? Not the prince's royal ass, he could tell you that much. Then it'd be paperwork/apology/official reparation and he wouldn't hear the end of it for weeks.

'It is not custom for my race to do this; much less members of the royal family.' The prince continued, much to Mira's chagrin. 'I get on my knees.' He did, all five of them. 'And tell you, moon goddess of Tangea, how much I yearn for your delicate hand in holy matrimony.'

The entire Izaran congregation made a series of rapid arms movements and chanted a word three times.

'I confess to you a profound longing deep within my Izaran soul.' Chant three times. 'A hundred star cycles I've lived this galaxy but never have I wanted someone as much as I've wanted you.' Chant three times. 'Accept my invitation, O Tangean princess. A hundred times again, come to me.' Chant Chant Chant.

Mira was quite beside herself; it was taking a lot of self control to keep from kneeing the 89th Izaran prince in the groin. Buzz, for one, wasn't going to stand for this any longer. No one harassed his crew, royalty or no.

He stepped away from his post, approaching the Izaran company. He could already see Nebula's disapproving glare forming in the back of his mind, but at this point he didn't quite care.

'Excuse me...' He said, watching Mira's expression change to one of relief as six Izarans turned to face him.

'No, excuse me!' A voice cried out from the entrance to the hall. The entire room turned as one to face the speaker, who was holding a couple of groaning space rangers in his clawed hand.

'I hope you don't mind me gatecrashing.' Zurg said, tossing the rangers aside. 'But it's so hard to get yourself invited anywhere these days. Oh, sorry about them.' He said, giving the rangers a little kick. 'They were being rather rude, don't you think, Darkmatter?'

'Zurg!' Buzz said, immediately reaching for his arm laser. At the first shot, the VIPs ducked to the floor, screaming. Zurg merely raised a hand, his glove absorbing the fire. Buzz rolled over to the side, knocking over the dessert table as he fired again.

Zurg sighed, blocking this one too. 'Quite useless, Lightyear. I've invested in some lovely shield systems that I managed to pick up from Trade World.' He said, stepping into the room. 'I do hope I'm not interrupting.' He paused, looking over to his right. 'Are those canapes fresh?'

'Hold it right there, Zurg!' Buzz said as the rest of the rangers held their weapons up at him. 'Make a move and we all shoot!'

'What did I say about shield systems?' Zurg said, hands on his hips. 'Oh, I also managed to get one of these.' He pulled a little remote control from the folds of his cloak and pressed the button.

'No!' Buzz said, aiming at the black box and firing. Or at least, pressing the fire button. No high pitched squeal. No high powered energy blast.

The band played on, oblivious.

Every ranger in the room hit frantically at their triggers as their weapons refused to work. 'Oh, yeah?' XR cried from behind a pile of Intonian ambassadors, pulling out his entire arsenal. 'Eat this, Zurgieboy!'

A ball of pure energy flew across the room, vaporizing the robot ranger as Warp Darkmatter stepped in through the doorway. 'Sorry, metal man.' He said, his expression speaking of exasperation more than anything else. 'Can't risk hitting the vee eye pees.' He said, looking over at Buzz. 'Hey Buzz. How's tricks?'

Buzz wasn't going to stand for this much longer. He activated his jetpack, soaring across the room at Warp. Before he could get within ten meters of him, a bluish sphere struck him from the side; encasing him in a clear bubble and sending him floating toward the ceiling.

'Sorry, Lightyear.' Zurg said, brandishing the weapon he was holding. 'Can't have you ruining the party.' He said, hovering over to one of the tables, taking a sliver of sandwich and popping it into his mouth. 'Lobanan lobster!' He cried happily. 'I love this stuff!'

'You'll never get away with this, Zurg!' Buzz cried, trying to break the bubble that trapped him.

'Get away with what?' Warp asked him, arms crossed. 'He's not doing anything.'

'Mira, Liaken, get him!' Buzz shouted at the two female rangers, who were providing a sort of human shield for the Izaran delegation. The two nodded, running at the evil emperor who was currently stuffing his face with lobster sandwiches. Splitting up, they both tried to grab him from opposite directions, but were send flying as they hit the crackling glow of his energy shield. 'Star Command, Star Command, come in Star Command.' Buzz said into his communicator.

'Oh, don't bother, Lightyear.' Zurg said with his mouth full. 'I've jammed the entire sector. My ship is sitting just outside.' He pointed with his thumb, shaking his head. 'Do you have any idea how hard it is to find parking in this system? I was cruising around out there in rush traffic for half an hour just trying to find a space. Who plans those ship routes I wonder?'

'What do you want, Zurg?' Buzz asked, his mind racing through the possible scenarios. 'Hostages? Galactic conquest? Revenge?'

'I do wish you wouldn't be so hostile, Lightyear.' Zurg waved a hand at him and the energy bubble disappeared, depositing him on the floor in a rather undignified heap. 'I'm just here for the food and the ever so pleasant company.' He stopped, his head at an angle. 'Is that Strauss?' He said, looking at the band. 'I _love_ Strauss!' He cried out, making his way toward the band, hands clapping. 'Encore, encore!'

'Darkmatter!' Buzz shouted, pointing accusingly at the henchman. 'What the hell is going on?'

The expression he wore as he rolled his eyes was nothing but weary. 'Nothing, Buzz. I told you. Zurg's just here for the party.'

'You honestly expect me to believe that?' Buzz said. 'The most evil and ambitious man in the galaxy, self styled evil emperor, comes to a conference of six of the most influential planets in known space and he's not here to employ some sort of evil scheme?'

Warp pointed with his thumb, his face deadpan. Buzz turned to see Zurg boogying down to the Blue Danube.

'Wha?' He said, shock overtaking him.

'Told you, big man.' Warp said, hitting him on the shoulder. 'Zurg's _lost_ it.' He said, walking over to the canapes. 'Hey, these are _good_!'

The dignitaries were coming up from the floor, slowly. Zurg was clapping and laughing and begging for another rendition.

'What the hell is happening, Buzz?' Mira asked incredulously. He could only shrug, his face a paroxysm of conflicting signals.

'Hey, have you tried these?' Warp said, handing Buzz a sandwich, which he accepted blankly. 'Man, you Star Command boys really know how to throw a party, you know that?'

'What's going on?' Mira asked Warp in an accusing tone. 'What are you trying to pull?'

Warp bit off the head of a particularly succulent prawn. 'You wouldn't believe me if I told you.' He said in between bites.

'Try me.' Mira said, folding her arms.

'You're really not going to believe me.'

'Hit me.'

'You're _really_ not going to believe this.' Warp said. His was the tone of a man who had seen the slopes of Hell, and was trying his best to come back with the help of his family therapist and a mountain of Prozac.

'Tell me Warp, before I-'

'_The Sound of Music_, buttered popcorn, and Triple Creme Lattes.' Warp said, sighing.

Mira's brow fused. 'What?'

'And Leo Buscalgia tapes.' Warp said. 'Lots of them. Chemical imbalance is my best guess. Hey, could I get a drink over here?' He asked, beckoning a waiter toward him. 'Cocktails? Thanks pal.' He patted the human on the back as he took a long chug. 'I can't handle this sober.' He said, walking over to the small bar they'd installed in the rear of the party.

Mira, meanwhile, was standing in shock. 'Leo Buscalgia?'

'Warp, do you mean to tell me-' Buzz said, looking over at Zurg, who was proceeding to do handstands. 'That Zurg is-'

'Completely out of his mind.' Warp said. 'He just came right up to me and said, 'Darkmatter!' He lowered his voice several octaves. 'Star Command is having a party! And they didn't invite me! Zurg! Emperor of Evil!' So we just had to come.' He downed the rest of his cocktail. 'Hit me, barkeep.' He put his glass down. 'Hey, do they have buyback in this place?'

Polite applause, some laughter. Zurg was making up lyrics to the Fifth Symphony, Beethoven.

'I am the one!' He cried, hand on chest. 'I Am The One...'

Some rangers had found the pieces of XR and put him more or less back together. He was missing a tread and some fingers, but he wasn't really complaining.

'Buzz, aren't we going to do something?' Mira asked, tapping Buzz on the shoulder. 'Hey Buzz?'

'I'm-' Buzz said, his cheeks bulging slightly as he grimaced. 'I'm going to have a drink.'

'Buzz!' Mira said as he made his way to the empty stool next to Darkmatter. 'You can't drink on duty!'

'Re-lax, princess.' Warp said, glass in claw. 'Let the man down a few. He can't handle this without a couple of stiff ones, am I right buddy?' He nudged Lightyear, who wasn't saying anything. The bartender poured a thick brown substance into a glass and put it in front of him. 'I remember back at the Academy with this bozo.' Warp said to Mira. 'After every Stellar Cartography exam he'd go down to Cosmo's and drink like a fish. The man can't handle depression. Well,' He said, raising his glass. 'At least not sober.'

'You can't make me (youcan'tmakemeyoucan'tmakeme) You can't make me you can't make me, you cannot make me! You cannot make me! Stop!' Zurg raised his arms above his head. 'You! Can't! Make! Me...'

'Here ya go, buddy.' Warp said, putting the glass into Buzz's hand. 'Drink up. You'll feel better in a jiffy.'

'Is he really?' Buzz asked, looking at a mamboing Evil Emperor. Warp nodded solemnly.

'Yep.' He said, finishing another cocktail. 'Hit me.' He said to the bartender. 'Listen, Buzz, the last time he got like this-'

Buzz's face twisted some more. 'He's been like this _before_?'

'Trust me on this? As my only friend?' Warp said, eyebrows raised. 'You do not want to know.' He took his newly filled glass, raising it to his lips. 'We're _still_ trying to get that stain out of the carpet...' He muttered as he downed his drink.

'What I wanna know is...' Buzz said, watching his drink dissolve the glass it was in. 'What I wanna know is...'

'Whoa, dude, you've gone soft.' Warp said, leaning back against the bar. 'You're running on fumes and you're already bent.'

'I wanna...' Buzz said, his eyes glazing over as he lifted his glass.

It'd been so long.

He put it to his lips and drained.

Fire scorched his chest as ice ran past his throat. Chumzian brandy trudged out of the glass and into his digestive system, and when he was done, he was coughing up lung.

'Whoa, easy there big fella.' Warp patted him on the back. 'You sure you can handle all that in one go?'

Buzz looked up, wheezing. 'Hit me.' He panted, putting the glass back on the table. The bartender shrugged, and poured him another one. The drops that missed the glass burned through the metal bartop and sizzled onto the floor. Above them, the ceiling paint crinkled.

'You know,' Zurg said to the Nubarian ambassador, his arm halfway around the alien's massive shoulder. 'I didn't always want to be an evil emperor.'

'Cheers, buddy.' Warp said, raising his glass towards Buzz.

'I wanted to be a-' Zurg said, pausing in reminiscence. 'I wanted to be a ballerina. Yes. That's what I always wanted to be.' He said, decided. 'I even had that frilly dress they wear, can't remember what it's called now...'

'Tutu.' One of the dignitaries supplied helpfully.

'Yes! Tutu, that's it.' Zurg said. 'Wore a tutu. Went to ballet class.' He sniffed. 'But all the other girls were afraid of me.' He sniffed again. 'No one wanted to be Zurgie's dance partner.'

'Cheers.' Buzz said as he drank the whole glass. Warp winced. Buzz had never been good with the drink, and he'd just had two shots of Chumzian brandy in less than thirty seconds. Even Warp, the ever immortal ladies' man, watered the stuff down with Alkyn tonic. Not because he was sissy or anything, but what it did to your pancreas was just _wrong_.

Zurg, meanwhile, was sobbing his eyes out into the Nubarian ambassador's shoulder. 'No one wanted to be my friend!' He cried. 'I always got picked on in the playground, I did.'

'There there.' The Nubarian said, his rumbling voice echoing throughout the room. If you want to imagine a Nubarian, picture a walking hulk of granite with arms.

'It didn't help that I was good at math.' Zurg sniffled. 'Every time I got chosen to come up to the board I couldn't help it if I knew what nine plus five was. The other kids thought I was being a teacher's pet.' He spat the word. 'As if! The teachers barely came near me!'

XR's eyes flickered as Mira switched him back on. 'What happened?' He asked, flexing.

'Don't ask me.' Mira sighed, facing him towards Zurg. 'I just work here...'

'Hiccup!' went Zurg as he straightened up. 'Huh hic!'

'Oh no.' Warp said, finishing his last cocktail. 'Time to go.'

'Wha? Why?' Buzz asked, his third glass in his hand.

'Because he's coming to.' Warp said, making his way through the crowd. 'Excuse me, thank you. Yes, excuse me.' He grunted as he lifted his lord and master, helping him to his feet. 'I'd better get him out of here before he realizes where he is and Columbines the place.'

'Thanks for the party, everyone!' Zurg said, waving. 'I'll remember you!'

'Pray that he doesn't.' Warp said to the crowd. 'Catch you later, Lightyear.' Warp said, minding his head on the doorway. 'It's been swell.'

XR watched the whole thing, video camera in hand. 'This is going to be worth a fortune on Galactic Home Videos. Did anyone catch the rest of it?'


End file.
